Never Alone
by Andromakhe
Summary: Slightly AU. Arriving on Tatooine, bereft and grieving, Obi-Wan finds healing and refuge from the one person who's always been there, even if he wasn't always aware of it.


Disclaimer: Characters and situations property of LucasFilm, Jude Watson, etc. No monetary gain and no intent to steal.

Spoilers: Jedi Apprentice up to _The Uncertain Path; _Eps I-III

A/N: I make some assumptions that are not technically canonical. I think the theories can be believed if you squint, but this fic may not appeal to purists. Thanks to Athena Leigh's "His Master's Voice" for one of the noncanonical ideas. Thanks to Lionesseyes13 for her good beta work. Any remaining errors are mine. I made some changes to the changes. And her fic "Spirits" ties into my thinking about Qui-Gon's "immortality."

As I ride my eopie away from the Lars farm, I begin to think on all I'd lost, but, my mount keeps me somewhat grounded in the present at the same time, and I muse that though she is not sentient, she is still a comfort to have near. At least, I am not completely alone.

A voice incredibly like my Master's murmurs in my mind. _You never are._

I blink, then shrug. I can not be certain that long-cherished voice is not mere wishful thinking, after all, and, at this point, my heart can't take another disappointment. Yet, inexplicably, I derive some measure of comfort from the statement made by the voice inside my head, since I figure it is right. I suppose the Force is always with me. It has told me things in the form of visions, and at times, it even helps me diffuse volatile arguments.

I pat my mount's neck and smile slightly, remembering the loyalty and noble heart of Boga. "I seem to have better luck with animals than people. We'll have to find somewhere to rest before it gets too cold. Where do you think we should go?"

I use the Force to request my eopie take charge of finding somewhere out of the open and let my mind drift as she eats what plants she can find, keeping up a steady walk all the while.

I think of Luke and wonder if his being on Tatooine will produce the same character Anakin had - rebellious and changeable. I think of the Jedi massacre during the Clone Wars and the devastation of the place I called home for so many years. I wonder if this would have happened if Qui-Gon had lived. I bow my head sadly. My thoughts always return to him.

_Focus, Padawan._

That voice again. Qui-Gon **would **say that right about now. He always tried to discourage me from wandering into "what ifs," but it is a trait he could never quite train out of me.

Nevertheless, my thoughts change course and return to the past and focus upon how Qui-Gon never said goodbye. I think I recall him saying he was sorry. Sorry for what? There wasn't time to explain, and the apology might not even have been real, since it was not verbal.

I shake my head and sigh, and ride for some time in silence. Presently, my eopie stops walking. I note we've gone some distance from Luke's home and I note the place I will live from now on a little ways off.

"Good girl. This looks promising."

I dismount and offer food and water to her, but the eopie refuses both. I unload my supplies and start toward the canyon, stroking her flank gently and murmuring that I'd try to find her the next day, and she was free for the rest of the night unless I didn't find this place suitable.

I make my way into the canyon and find that there is good shelter from the wind and sand. I spread my cloak on the ground, sit down, and allow the pain, despair - and yes, even the anger - to sweep over me and flow into the Force. The pain and anger eases, but the despair does not. Once more, I see young ones with lightsaber wounds, see Anakin killing them ruthlessly, and ask myself how it went so wrong. Then I think how Anakin is the latest in a long line of losses, Qui-Gon's merely being the one I mourn the most.

Of its own accord, my hand strays to the pocket where I keep Qui-Gon's stone. It has managed to stay with me all these years, which is perhaps a miracle in itself. I feel its warmth and the moisture of tears, and I lovingly caress the smooth river rock as I let more tears fall.

Suddenly, I feel something that makes me start in surprise and forget my grief. I feel compassion and empathy, but more than that, it is flowing along a bond I thought long dead.

"Master?" I whisper tentatively, as hope and trepidation war for supremacy in my heart.

A gentle chuckle in response makes me smile in spite of myself.

"How...?" I pause, not even certain what I am asking.

"It is a long story, but it is true what we say: 'There is no death; there is the Force.'"

"Master Yoda had mentioned...had mentioned training. It seems both of you won't let me rest and insist on giving me missions."

Another chuckle, this one tinged with sorrow. "I am certain this training will serve you well, however. It certainly has for me, though I saw much pain. Still, this knowledge enabled me to follow quite an illustrious career." A proud smile.

"Oh really? Whose?" I attempt a mischievous grin.

A bark of laughter. "Master Kenobi, some things never change, I see."

I sober immediately. "What do you mean?"

A quiet sigh. "Compliments always did make you uncomfortable."

"That's because I don't deserve them. You know what happened with Ana...Vader."

A slow nod. "Yes. And I'm also aware of your many titles. Titles you earned."

I finger the stone contemplatively. "The Council Knighted me for slaying Darth Maul, but they weren't there. It was...almost an accident."

"Almost?"

"Well...I planned to do what I did, but for it to have worked was something of a surprise."

"Mmm." A thoughtful nod. "I cannot say I intended to be killed, but it was a sacrifice I was willing to make."

I blink in confusion. "Master?"

"Do you recall me meditating before I forced Maul toward the pit?"

I nod.

"I sought the Force's guidance. One of us had to lose."

"But Maul was...Wait...You mean one Jedi?"

A solemn nod. "It was a fair exchange, I thought, and the only choice I could make."

"What?" I explode. "You didn't give **me **a say in this?"

"Obi-Wan, there wasn't time. In any case, do you really think I would have for one second contemplated allowing you to die?"

"Master, that's not the point."

"Yes, it is. I didn't have much more time in the field. You were ready for your Trials. And well, I had the knowledge to hopefully be here now."

"Hopefully?"

"You know me. I take chances."

I sigh heavily, thinking of an infamous podrace and a boy I deemed dangerous, but not evil.

"Obi-Wan, you were right about Anakin. I should have listened. I'm sorry. For so many things. Most of all, I'm sorry I never gave you a chance to mourn me properly. I threw you into a task you were not yet ready for. Not that you were incapable. You trained Anakin as well as you could given your circumstances, but you could not give your entire heart to him, the way his mother and Padme could. Indeed, before Melida/Daan, I couldn't give my whole heart to you, either, and we know what happened there."

I flinch in pain at the memories Melida/Daan brings up. "Master, are you never going to forgive me for that?"

"Padawan, I forgave you long ago. Did you never figure that out?"

I whisper softly, almost inaudibly, "Sometimes, I couldn't be sure of your affection for me."

My Master stares at me, stricken. "Then it would seem I have failed you."

"No. You trained me well. You never let me do less than my best, but never pushed me to achieve more than I was capable of. If I was sad, you comforted me. If I was afraid, your mere presence gave me courage. If I didn't understand something about our profession or the world, you guided me, and this stone has been my light through many bleak days."

"My little one..." His voice is hoarse with emotion. "It gladdens my heart that the stone has been so helpful. It reminded me of you. Ordinary on the outside, but extraordinary, even among the Jedi."

I bask in the affection I feel through our bond, but then doubt creeps in. "You really think that? Despite Anakin turning?"

A frisson of frustration and I flinch again. "You really **aren't **certain, are you? Tell me, Padawan, how it is you can still love me enough to miss me for all these years after I humiliated you before the Council and said that I chose Anakin."

I feel a spike of anger I thought long buried. I cannot speak immediately for its intensity. I realize that the anger is a manifestation of great pain, a pain deeper than the rage, and it dies as quickly as it came. "Master," I murmur quietly, "all I can say is that to stop loving you would be like ceasing to breathe. It's not possible."

A knowing smile and a shrewd chuckle. "And why isn't it possible? Don't I deserve to be renounced just as you were?"

"It might serve you right," I mutter under my breath. "But I can't."

"So you can't disown me and cannot bring yourself to hate me. Why do you think I could have done it to you?"

Once again, my response is low. "Because you did it before."

A deep sigh and a pang of regret. "And yet I had a training bond with you as early as Bandomeer, and I treated you as a Padawan even though my mind refused the truth."

I remember our fight with the draigons and the terror of the mines. Then I remember telling Qui-Gon I was not his Padawan.

"Obi-Wan." His tone is gentle, kind. "I said you were a good apprentice, but perhaps you did not understand quite what I meant. It was your dream to become a Knight. I was already a Knight for a long time. However, I never got a Padawan I could call a son. Until I met you."

My eyes widen and I gasp, speechless.

"So you see, I could never reject you. You gave me a gift at least as valuable as the one I gave you, if not more so. In fact, I'd say your gift is worth more. You taught me to trust and enabled me to be the best Jedi I could be."

"But you wanted to train Anakin."

"With his power, I thought it would be dangerous to leave him untrained. The Sith had also risen again. And no one else would have done it."

"Anakin...He was your Melida/Daan?"

"I...Yes. Not that I wasn't fond of him, but my self-appointed mission did take slightly more priority."

And suddenly, I understand completely and forgiveness is absolute.

"Master, our training bond...It still works."

"Ah. So you finally noticed that?" A teasing wink.

I'm vaguely amazed my Master can still embarrass me at my age. "Um...I just wondered how. Unless..." I pause as a startling realization hits. "Unless it was never broken."

"Do you recall it being broken?"

"Um..." I close my eyes and take a moment to clear my mind and my feelings. I think back to that terrible day, my Master's plea that I finish what he started, and his mental apology as his hand dropped from my cheek. I realize then that there was no pain from the bond being forcibly severed. I shake my head. "Master Yoda mentioned a path to immortality."

"I don't know about that. I'd learned about retaining identity after death some time ago, but never seriously considered trying to apply it until you became my Padawan. So I worked on it while I trained you and had to hope I knew enough by the time my hand was forced."

"Master, why don't the Jedi know about this? Do the Sith know?"

"Well, you know how rigid the mainstream Jedi are, or should I say were? As for the Sith, I cannot be certain either way. I suspect they would have heard that it is possible to merge with the Force, but their ability to do it is another story. I doubt they have the compassion and serenity necessary to master the technique. One must be totally detached, even from the self. No possessions."

I nod in acknowledgement. "Were you planning to teach it to me?"

"Yes, of course, but not just yet. You ought to be better rested."

I smile and nod, trusting implicitly in his judgment. I begin to meditate in preparation for sleep, suddenly feeling weary, but then a thought occurs. "Master, I wish I could have given you my Padawan braid."

"But I was there, and you've made me so proud. You accomplished all you set out to do; you've learned patience and the value of 'pathetic life forms'; you've learned to control your temper and to fight methodically; and you have stuck to the Jedi way despite all your sorrows."

"As if I'd really join the Sith that took away everyone and everything I loved. Besides, I couldn't do it to you."

"No matter what you say, Padawan, you are a Jedi when the going is tough, and for that, you have my deepest respect."

"Thank you." I arrange a makeshift bed and scan the area with the Force. Finding nothing alarming, I make myself comfortable. "Stay with me?"

"I've never left."


End file.
